His Hermione
by fission07
Summary: It had been 5 years, 7 months, 3 weeks, 21 days, 13 hours, and 40 minutes since he realised that he loved her. Disclaimer: All characters and familiar plot belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling! I'm just playing around in her paddling pool :)


5 years. 7 months. 3 weeks. 21 days. 13 hours. 40 minutes.

He sighed.

It had been 5 years, 7 months, 3 weeks, 21 days, 13 hours, and now… 41 minutes since he realised that he loved her.

She sat across from him now… Her coffee coloured eyes sparkled as she listened intently to someone telling a story. Her sun-kissed skin glowed in the warm light of the candles. Her hair, in beautiful, beachy-brown ringlets, cascaded down her back. Her smile was alive, welcoming… it made him feel at home.

* * *

_She was 14 when he first met her. Young. Pure. Innocent._

_Not only that, but she was also vastly mature for her age. Fiery. Powerful. Tenacious._

_He was immediately fascinated by her._

_She was the only one to figure out his secret. She knew what he was. She had seen it._

_And still, she accepted him. She never disregarded him. She made him feel completely… human._

* * *

_He didn't see her again for two years._

_When she walked in to Grimmauld Place, it was as if a deep calm had settled back into his life. Her intelligence had always impressed him, but it was her open-mindedness that inspired him the most. After all, there weren't many who wanted to spend time with… well… people like him._

_She had grown into a beautiful young woman. Of course, he had always known her to be pretty, but, now, he was sure he wasn't the only one to notice._

_She seemed to have taken an interest in the Weasley boy, and not the most interesting or successful one either, if he was being completely honest._

_Although it confused him to see them together, he could do nothing about it. He was old enough to be her father, after all…_

_So he maintained his distance… For the most part._

_They had settled into a comfortable routine. Every evening, they would sit together in the library, reading, talking, laughing…_

_Being one of the only two bookworms in the house, he took immense pleasure in her company._

_As the weeks went by, he had come to realise that she wasn't just a fascinating witch… She was the quintessential witch._

* * *

_On the day she left with her friends back to Hogwarts, he made her a silent vow. With the threat of Voldemort looming over their heads, he would do anything in his power to make sure she was kept safe._

* * *

_His heart had stopped when he had heard the news…_

_They had gone to the Department of Mysteries._

_In spite of the fact that the full moon was near and his strength was waning, he went with the rest of the Order to find them._

_To find her._

_When they arrived, everything was in chaos. He saw her in the corner of the room, pale and unmoving. Rushing to her side, he attempted to revive her, but to no avail. His heart thundered in his ears as he desperately checked her pulse._

'Just be alive… Please be alive… '

_The dull thud, although weak, was just enough to keep him together._

_Rising to stand in front of her body, he shielded her from deflected attacks, determination set in his features._

* * *

_When Sirius fell, he ran to Harry, holding him tightly as the boy let out a gut-wrenching scream._

_In his weakened state, he couldn't maintain his grip, and so, with silent tears of anguish, he let him go._

_As the Death Eaters disapparated one by one, he returned to her, cradling her in his arms as he carried her from the room. He placed a gentle hand on her cheek before handing her to the mediwizard that had arrived, and watched, with a heavy heart, as she was taken away._

* * *

_He visited her every week while she lay, comatose, in the infirmary, silently praying to whoever was listening that she wake up. She was such a powerful witch, and yet, lying in a hospital bed, her body looked so small and fragile…_

_It wasn't until three weeks later that he saw her in his doorway, beautiful as ever._

_"I heard about what happened at the Ministry," she said quietly, moving to stand in front of him. "I just wanted to come and say thank you. Without you… I might not have survived."_

_He remembered how his stomach had clenched at the mere thought of her death, and could only manage to let out a husky, "You're welcome," in response._

_She had given him a small smile and placed her palm on his cheek, tenderly rubbing her thumb against his skin. He had leaned into her hand for the slightest moment, eyes closed, revelling in her touch, before he managed to come to his senses._

_Giving her a soft smile, he bowed his head and cleared his throat. "I'm glad you're alright," he murmured sincerely, looking at her through shielded eyes._

_As she smiled and turned to walk away, he held a hand over his face, wondering why it was so hard for him to see her go._

* * *

_Over the next year, they wrote letters to one another, most of the time giving each other updates on the War's events._

_Nevertheless, on her 17th birthday, he sent her a journal bound in dragon hide._

_In her reply, she had signed her name with 'love'._

_It was in that moment – the moment that he saw her elegant hand and pictured her eyes twinkling, a smile on her face – that he realised he loved her…_

_By God, he loved her._

* * *

_The moment of terror then came months later._

_When he heard of Severus' betrayal… Dumbledore's death… He drove his fist through the wall._

'When did the world become like this…'

_In spite of that, amidst all the terror and heartache, some still managed to find happiness._

_The eldest Weasley boy was getting married, and for that, he was grateful._

_Grateful for the distraction. Grateful for the peace. Grateful that he would be able to see her again._

_She would be 18 soon, of that he was pathetically aware._

_18, and still, unobtainable._

_Sometimes he wondered if this was his true curse. A curse for all of the horrible things he had done. A curse for being what he was._

_Doomed to love a woman he could never have._

_But the moment she entered the tent at Bill and Fleur's wedding, all thought flew from his head._

_If this was to be his curse… so be it._

* * *

_Observing her over the rim of his glass, he found contentment at the sight of pure bliss upon her face._

_The last thing he had expected was for her to ask him for a dance._

_The first time he held her in his arms, he felt invincible._

_She was his Juliet._

_"A lot on your mind?" she asked him, a smile on her face._

_Blushing, he shook his head. "My apologies. I just… You look beautiful."_

_He couldn't remember how he had summoned the courage to say it, but, at the way her face lit up, he was glad he did._

_"You look quite dashing yourself, Remus," she replied, her thick lashes seductively covering her eyes._

_He swallowed thickly, trying to maintain his composure, but still, he couldn't quell the flicker of hope that ignited in the back of his mind._

_For the briefest of moments, his armour cracked, and the love and admiration he held for her shone through._

_Nothing could have prepared him, though, for what she said next._

_"I was wondering when you were going to finally let yourself look at me like that."_

_She had laughed at his bewildered stare, and placed a hand on his cheek, much like she did the first time she touched him, all that time ago._

_"Gryffindors speak with their eyes," she whispered, gazing at him intently._

_What he saw in hers reflected what she saw in his._

* * *

_Just as he was about to tell her how he truly felt, tell her what he had wanted to tell her for so long, the Death Eaters arrived._

_He remembered the panicked look on her face as she spun around in his arms, searching for her two best friends._

_Turning back to him for one moment, she had tears in her eyes._

_"I _will_ find you again."_

_And then she was gone._

* * *

_The War raged on._

_Months had gone by, and still, the final battle – the inevitable battle – had yet to occur._

_He was almost relieved when the time finally came._

_It would finally be over._

* * *

_As he fought with all of his being, he charged through the castle, wand high, eyes blazing._

_Stepping over Fenrir Greyback's corpse, he rounded a corner and came face to face with Antonin Dolohov._

_Death Eater. Murderer._

_The one who had almost killed her._

_For what seemed like hours they battled, flashes of green and red screaming through the air, when suddenly, a sharp pain ripped through his entire body, and everything went black._

* * *

_He saw her in his mind… She was crying._

_All he wanted was to reach out and touch her, tell her everything was going to be okay. But he couldn't._

_He wondered if he was dead, and prayed to Merlin that he live._

_Live for the life he never had._

_Live for the friends he had come to cherish._

_Live for the woman he loved._

* * *

_He remembered waking up in a white bed, a dull throb vibrating throughout his body._

_He remembered seeing her next to him, her hand clutching his._

_He remembered her tear-stained face and red eyes._

_He remembered that being the first time she kissed him…_

* * *

It had been 5 years. 7 months. 3 weeks. 21 days. 13 hours, and… 48 minutes since he realised that he loved her.

She sat across from him now… Her coffee-coloured eyes sparkled as she looked at him. Her sun-kissed skin glowed against the crisp white of her dress. Her hair, in beautiful, brown ringlets, cascaded down her back. Her smile was alive, welcoming.

He sighed.

Smiling, he raised a glass to toast his love.

His home.

His wife.

His Hermione.


End file.
